


Bargains

by FabulaRasa



Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:39:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabulaRasa/pseuds/FabulaRasa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A brief meditation. What do you say at an old enemy's grave?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bargains

‎"So."‎

Sirius Black stiffened. "What the hell are you doing here, Snivellus?"‎

‎"Same as you."‎

Sirius snorted. "You're pathetic. Why don't you just stay clear of us, Snivellus? Now get ‎out of my way." He shouldered the slighter boy aside, too tired to work up a sharper ‎retort, or even a really good hex. Dusk was falling overhead, and he was famished; not ‎even for Snape was he going to delay his dinner after a long afternoon's practice.‎

‎"Yes, why don't you just hurry along to dinner, Black?" Snape said in a quiet voice. ‎‎"You must have loads to tell Potter. Especially about what you've been doing since ‎Quidditch practice ended forty-five minutes ago."‎

Sirius went very still. "What the hell are you babbling about, Snivellus?" he managed, but ‎his lips felt slow and numb.‎

‎"You know what I mean." ‎

For a long moment the gaze hung between them. Snape watched the other boy's chest ‎rise and quicken. When he spoke his voice was thick and hoarse.‎

‎"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about."‎

‎"Oh, don't I? Don't you think I know about you, you pervert? Shame, shame," he ‎clucked softly. "Whatever would Potter say if he knew his best mate was off buggering ‎another one of their friends—"‎

He never finished his sentence, because the next minute his thin shoulders were pressed ‎against the wall of the broom shed, and he was gasping for air as Sirius Black's arm ‎pushed against his throat.‎

‎"You little shit," he growled. "You fucking little fucker. You don't know anything. ‎Anything. You just try it—"‎

‎"And you'll what, Black?" Though his voice was faint, his lips sneered. "You'll what? ‎You'll get your fucking hands off me, is what, or I'll walk into that hall and tell every ‎Gryffindor in sight what Sirius goddamn Black does with the other little boys when he ‎thinks no one's looking."‎

‎"You shut up," he spat, slamming Snape's head against the wall of the shed. "You shut ‎up now." But nothing stopped the soft laugh, the mockery in the muddy eyes.‎

‎"That's right, Black," Snape whispered. "I'll shut up, too right I will. For a price."‎

Sirius released him, feeling like he was the one who had been pushed against a wall. His ‎arms ached, his chest felt as though he'd run a mile, and his vision was fuzzing at the ‎edges. I'm going to pass out, he thought, I'm going to die right here. The thought of ‎collapsing in front of Snape stiffened him, and he forced himself to return the level gaze ‎of the boy still leaning against the wall.‎

‎"What's your price, Snivellus?"‎

‎"For one thing," Snape began, a slow smile tipping the corner of his mouth, "that's the ‎last time I hear that particular name applied to me."‎

Sirius snorted. "I'm not in control of what the rest of the world calls you."‎

‎"Then you'd better get that way. And another thing. You and your pathetic gang stays ‎far, far away from me."‎

Sirius gave another snort. "It's you who won't stay away from us, Sni—ape, and you ‎know it."‎

Snape went on as though he hadn't heard. "You'll keep clear of me. You'll not lift a ‎wand to me, for the rest of this year and the next. You'll see that not so much as a ‎disrespectful remark passes your lips in my presence. And it goes without saying that all ‎of this goes for your mate Potter, too."‎

He paused and watched the protest swirl in Sirius's head, saw the reluctance, the ‎defiance, the hatred. He smiled. "Faggot," he added ‎caressingly, as an afterthought.‎

‎"That's something, coming from you." It was a stab in the dark, but delivered with just ‎enough low malevolence to hit home. Snape laughed and shrugged in his odd narrow-‎shouldered way.‎

‎"I make no secret of what I am, Black. Unlike you. You're nothing but secrets, are you? ‎Let me offer you a little advice, Black, because other than despising you more than I've ‎ever despised any other living being, I don't mind you so much. Get out of the closet, ‎and you'll find your choice of bedmates greatly improves. Maybe you could even do ‎better than that sorry little fop you're reduced to fucking."‎

Sirius was uncomfortably aware that his breathing was loud, while Snape's was calm; no ‎doubt he was flushed, too. He took his time stilling his breathing, holding Snape in his ‎hate-filled gaze. The other boy cocked his head curiously at him, like he was a rat pinned ‎and spread for the scalpel. ‎

‎"I'm going to kill you," Sirius said at last, as quietly as he could. "I will kill you. I don't ‎know how yet, or when. But you ought to know that I'm going to do it."‎

Snape nodded, as though he found this satisfying. "Yes. I just bet you'll try, too. But ‎know this, Black. Someday I'll be standing over your grave, and I'll be laughing at you. ‎Just like I am today."‎

He shoved himself off from the wall and sauntered across the lawn back to the castle, the ‎knowledge of being watched in the purposeful slant of his stride.‎

‎

* * *

‎

‎"Severus? Are you coming?"‎

‎"Yes, yes. I'll be right there."‎

Dumbledore nodded and picked his careful way through the maze of ancient headstones ‎to the little knot of people standing huddled beyond. Snape could hear their quiet ‎murmurs, the false subdued hush of people in a graveyard. He bent and picked up a ‎smooth stone from the rocky soil at his feet. He ran his thumb across it.‎

‎"If it is any comfort to you, and I expect it is not. . ." he began, fingering his stone. For a ‎minute and more he just stood there, memorising its smoothness, hearing the twitter of ‎birds and the whip of summer air in the trees. Doubtless it was going to rain. With a quiet ‎thunk he placed his stone on top of the plain marker. ‎

‎"I'm not laughing," he said softly, and stepped through the long unkempt grass, not to ‎where the group on the path waited but away, through the forest of stones and absent ‎bodies, the first drops of the summer storm pattering on the gravel and his sloping ‎shoulders.‎


End file.
